


Sweater Weather

by creme



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creme/pseuds/creme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto loses his sweetness and it's all Sousuke's fault. What will it take for them to make it through?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, 
> 
> As some of you may know, this work was previously up on the Archive but yours truly made some dumbass life decisions in the name of improving it. I mostly wanted to get it proofread and have it flow better but I bit off more than I could chew. I have been editing it though, so it'll be reappearing chapter by chapter. I'll post the original on Tumblr and provide a link when I get around to it. The two won't really be different as far as plot goes, but I'll be including some more information!
> 
> Some back story: initially I just vomited most of my works out onto the Archive. I feel like I can give you guys something slightly better quality~ So I hope you enjoy it and don't mind too much about the unreliability of this stupid fanfic writer.

Winter came in through the bones. The chill made itself known in the deepest recesses of his body, and he could feel it creeping under his blankets, into his bed. He'd toss and turn at the discomfort of being just cold enough to be uncomfortable, but not cold enough to be jolted from sleep. A few days later, he'd pulled out an extra blanket. Then winter felt like a memory. It enveloped and hung in the air, its presence blissfully ignored by a Makoto who'd found solace in his blankets. A pocket, a cocoon, a shelter from the chill.

Winter wasn't uncomfortable. It was cold. Cold like a heavy spear which shattered through facades and hit right in the most vulnerable spaces. The kind of cold that left you shivering even though you'd warmed up. The kind of cold you slept through just fine, but were paralyzed by when you woke.

That was the cold of Makoto's heart.

So he fancied he liked winter. Like the dull chill that had long settled over him, leaving his world shades of grey and frosty blue, winter reminded him that he could still feel things. The chilly air bit at his skin and he could feel. He could remember.

Sadness was like that too. It could be there and not say a word. A silent companion who lent nothing but its weight. And yet sometimes, when the winter cold started biting at his skin, sadness would start biting at his heart too.

And to him those were the most precious. The moments, ephemeral, transient. Just pangs, or small recollections. A few seconds where his heart would scream, and he'd be joyously happy that it still could. And then it would die down again. And so would he. He'd disappear back into his lostness, not knowing anything about how one went about being alive. How one knew to want things or feel things.

 

。。。

 

Something about that morning screamed. It screamed and it warned and it panicked. Yet he wasn't paying attention because he'd long forgotten that the world sometimes tried to tell you things—that your gut always knew best. Because what reason was there? What was there in his life for him to care about what the world was going to show him, the things his gut could tell would happen. There was nothing.

He'd long since stopped waking up only to choke down tears about the absence of another body in his bed. After six month he'd slowly collected the doubles of everything lying around the apartment. Cups, toothbrushes, old underwear, shared t-shirts.

He'd tossed them all.

He'd bought all new clothes. Changed part time jobs, stopped talking to anyone who had known him, and created a whole new world for himself. He still lived in their old apartment, but he took refuge in the fact that it looked nothing like when they'd lived in it together, not anymore.

And then somewhere along the way he'd forgotten. He had put it to the back of his mind, the deepest part of his subconscious. He could no longer feel tinges of pain when something he saw reminded him of him because his brain had learned to bypass those associations.

So when the morning screamed, he wasn't alarmed by it. He just went about his day, cleaned, dusted, ate and headed to work.

 

。。。

 

Leaving Makoto had been something he'd chosen to do. When he’d finally broken through his rut, a world that had shut its gates to him had opened them once more. He was overwhelmed by it. At first, he couldn’t even imagine the possibilities. All of the things he had not even dared to dream of were now available to him. And as his dreams broadened, the words of his best friend began to call him.

It started with practices. He'd practiced incessantly until his shoulder had given, but this time his goals were not as desperate. Or maybe they were, but health was just a part of them. He divided his time between swimming, school, and therapy, cautiously insuring that not even the smallest detail was overlooked.

It also meant he'd see his sweet lover much less. But, it was a small price to pay and he knew Makoto to be a man who could bear with it. He put all of his own efforts into swimming and when time came for it, they saw each other less and less. Meeting once a week turned into seeing each other twice a month. Even though they lived together, he'd only find time to come home to sleep and leave once again before Makoto had woken.

Towards the end when Makoto had probably realized what was happening and become desperate to keep him in his life, he would wake up when Sousuke stirred and offer himself to him in the morning. In the beginning, Sousuke had found it adorable, but soon enough it had turned into a cause for irritation. He started finishing Makoto off and leaving, and eventually stopped coming back to the apartment altogether. He had a life outside of them, and Makoto needed to understand that.

The final blow came a few weeks before Sousuke was off to meet Rin and Haru before Olympic qualifiers. He had come home to pack a few of his things for his trip when Makoto had walked in and completely misunderstood because Sousuke hadn't breathed a word about it to him. He'd fallen to his knees in tears and cried while Sousuke packed. When he'd finally calmed down enough to manage words, Sousuke had felt quite bad, but also emotionally distanced. He didn't offer an explanation to Makoto's questions, and ignored his begging for him to stay. He'd calmly explained that he was leaving, and that he didn't expect to come back. That he hoped that Makoto would move on, and also that he was leaving the apartment to him in exchange for Makoto helping him throw out his things.

He imagined Makoto had cried, and he knew he had no right, but what he’d been put through these last few years had wishing more than anything to return home. To return to Makoto. He wondered what their meeting would be like, and whether Makoto would be angry, or sad, or happy. Whether he had kept a place for him, and how to make a place for himself if he hadn't. He thought about a great many things.

But, all in all he hadn't expected what he did return to.

 

。。。

 

Makoto had gone through the day conducting the functions of an average human being. He'd been nice to children, amiable to his coworkers, done his work and left after his boss had. It was about 8PM and he was meeting up with some of his friends that night. They usually ended up eating a meal, taking a few drinks, and then fucking the daylights out of each other at Makoto's apartment and today was going to be no different.

They came over as usual, gave him pecks on his lips as they walked in and talked about their days and their lives. Their relationship was an easy one. No power struggles, no insecurities. The two of them had taken pity on Makoto when they'd met him getting drunk in bars a few times, and something of a relationship had blossomed out of it. Casual, and intimate. They had helped him phase from entirely self-destructive, to mildly masochistic and somehow fallen in love along the way. It was clear to everyone but Makoto that they absolutely adored him.

They had resigned themselves to the understanding that they’d always be fonder of him than he’d realize, and as such, took to guiding him along. The two had been coworkers beforehand and seemed to have no romantic feelings for each other, but Makoto had brought them together in a way they couldn't quite understand. He was sweet and hurt, and managed to bring out the caretakers in both of them.

Today, as usual, the three of them ate their dinner and ended up in bed. Makoto enjoyed being with them. It was different from sex in a loving relationship, but he couldn't remember sex like that anymore—he didn't know if he'd ever even had it.

His intentions in seducing them had been to completely corrupt every memory he had of Sousuke. If two strangers could fuck him senseless in the bed they'd shared he could rationalize the meaningless of it all. Own it somehow. Somewhere along the way he'd realized he was hurting no one but himself.

But as luck would have it, the two men he’d picked up stuck around to woo his heart and body.

They were great friends, even better bed partners and Makoto enjoyed their company. They were considerate of his feelings, and when they were together, sometimes he thought he remembered what it felt like to enjoy himself or feel thankful for something.

 

。。。

 

It’d been awhile since they’d last seen each other, so they were taking their time reacquainting themselves. Makoto was sitting in Akira's lap and Reiichi was teasing his nipples and rubbing Makoto's cock against his own. The sexual activity was punctuated by laughter and giggling because their relationship was built on being playful with each other. They were friends. There was love. It was about having fun. They were nice. And when Akira entered Makoto from behind, Reiichi supported Makoto from the front.

They were both big and muscular, but in ways different from the man Makoto had long stopped remembering. They were warm and open, and Makoto had been saved by them. When they had sex, a slow calm fell over Makoto. Much like the calm he felt when he was surrounded by blankets on a cold morning.

After Akira had entered, the three of them began to get more desperate. Makoto was moaning and giggling and Reiichi was kissing him senseless. Akira was just starting to pick up the pace and Makoto could feel himself getting closer when the door burst open.

Everyone stopped mid-motion, to see who had entered the room when suddenly Reiichi was being pushed aside and Makoto was being pulled from Akira. The two of them were surprised until Makoto opened his mouth. His eyes had widened and his jaw had dropped.

"Sou-sousuke."

It took less than a second for both Reiichi and Akira to react. Reiichi had knocked Sousuke a good one and Akira had somehow managed to take Sousuke by his collar and pin him against the wall.

"Some nerve you have coming back here."

Neither of them were supposed to know about Sousuke, so Makoto paused in bewilderment at their reactions.

Sousuke, on the other hand, had naively expected no one but Makoto to be in, so when he'd heard the voices coming from the their room, he'd barged in without a thought.

Reiichi returned to Makoto's side and put a protective arm over his shoulder. Though Makoto was not reacting in the moment, he was thankful to the arm and melted into the embrace. Sousuke could only eye them angrily, turning his attention back to Akira.

"I'd appreciate it if you let go of me now. This is my apartment, and I entered with my own keys."

"And I'm telling you to leave. Seems Mako-chan forgot to have the locks changed."

There were a few seconds of silence as Akira and Sousuke both looked to Makoto for a judgement on the situation.

"Sousuke, why are you here?" Makoto spoke as he gathered himself. The years had changed him, and a thing like this wasn't anywhere near enough to shake him. Nothing was.

He rubbed the arm wrapped around him as if to reassure Reiichi that he was going to be alright, then getting up to pick up his clothes from the places they'd been tossed. As he dressed himself, Sousuke was in shock at the nonchalance of Makoto’s response to his return.

He tossed some clothes at Akira. "You should get dressed too Aki." He looked at Reiichi, "Icchan." As the two began to dress, Makoto signaled at the door. "Let's talk in the living room."

 

。。。

 

When they were all settled in the living room, Sousuke was not pleased. He was sitting on a chair from the dining table, icing his face with something random from the freezer while Reiichi and Akira had sat themselves on the couch, snuggling an all too naturally comfortable Makoto between them. Akira was holding one of Makoto's hands, and Makoto was leaning slightly into Reiichi's body.

Though he noted Sousuke’s unhappy expression, the support felt natural to Makoto. The three had known each other for six years now, and had had an emotionally intimate relationship for 5. That was longer than Makoto and Sousuke had been together, and Makoto treasured the men that were holding him now.

He never thought back to his and Sousuke's relationship, but figured that if he had, he was sure he'd find that Akira and Reiichi had given him more love and care than Sousuke ever had. What he was doing back at the apartment he'd left so heartlessly was beyond Makoto, but Makoto was okay now. He was okay, so he'd get to the bottom of this, move on, and continue to live his life supported by his friends.

Sousuke broke the silence.

"I tried to get in contact with you before coming."

Akira sneered at him. "Yes Sherlock, people are known to change their phone numbers every few years."

Sousuke ignored him. "I talked to your old job, but you weren't there anymore. I came because I wasn't notified of the lease on this apartment ending so I thought it might still be here. That you might still be here."

The words hung in the air. Reiichi and Akira were edging to give Sousuke a piece of their minds, but sat silenced by the look on Makoto's face. And Sousuke found himself more nervous than he’d ever been around Makoto, scared even, because the look on Makoto’s face now was a look he'd never seen before.

 

。。。

 

Makoto had always been easy going. And nice. Kind, considerate. He gave more than he took and what little he took was only the pleasure of giving to those he loved. Pitiful. Or blessed. He considered himself blessed. He was given the chance to be in the lives of so many people he loved so much. Or that’s how he’d thought a few years ago.

He had had an especially strong bond with Haru, but with Haru left with Rin and they slowly lost contact with each other. Makoto had tried to continue their relationship, made time to chat with him at odd hours, tried to keep up with his life, but Haru hadn't reciprocated. At some point, hurt as he had been, he had had to accept that even the closest of friends would move on.

At that time, Sousuke and Makoto saw each other often. Sousuke had been struggling with his plans for the future and had approached Makoto. Maybe it was for familiarity. Maybe it was to find a replacement for Rin. Maybe a mix of both and a little perversion, as was generally the case with young men. He had known Makoto was the type to care for people, and he’d been attracted to that. He’d needed the support, and when he'd gotten the support he'd found himself attached to the person giving it.

Makoto remembered how Sousuke had become involved with him and slowly made himself into an irreplaceable presence in Makoto's life. They had supported each other, and soon Sousuke was well on his way to a healthier place and Makoto had begun to understand his own relationships with others. Haru would come back eventually and he'd be a friend for him then. For now, he had someone important in his own life and he wanted to give his all to that person. He understood now because he understood Haru's feelings.

During the two years they were together, Makoto was open, loving, and accommodating.

He hadn't initially been in love with Sousuke, but when the other had fallen, Makoto had reciprocated by falling deeply. He wanted to treasure Sousuke's feelings for him, and he did so in every way he could. He changed his path of studies so he could help take care of Sousuke's health, and cut back on his part time hours so they could spend time together. He'd even moved in with Sousuke when Sousuke had asked, and taken care of the things around the house.

He thought their bond was strong, built on trust, understanding, and needing each other. But he had been wrong. And with being wrong about that, it was as if there wasn’t much he could have possibly been right about. As if everything he'd thought to be good and true had been an illusion.

When he came out of the chaos that the shock had caused, he settled quietly, solemnly, into a new world view. His warm smiles turned into business smiles, his open and caring nature turned defensive and selfish. The changes were subtle though, and only those who had known him before could see the cracked veneer of the angelic boy he used to be. But there was no one like that. And sometimes he’d catch his own reflection, see the deadness in his eyes and wonder if anyone could tell.

With the change also came a certain fierceness. Makoto had closed himself off in ways that led him to depend on blunt assertiveness to keep himself together. And that's what Sousuke was seeing in the moment. A blunt, assertive, down to business face that suggested that tonight was not going to go well.

。。。

 

"And why do you need to see me?" Makoto's voice was calm, not cold, but almost metallic. Solid and impenetrable. Cutting, like a razor.

Sousuke opened and closed his mouth a few times. When words finally came out, Akira and Reiichi clicked their tongues disapprovingly in the empty air left behind.

"I-uh..I was wrong. A lot of things happened while I was away and I realized how wrong I was, and how badly I treated you."

The silence was heavy, and though Sousuke had been afraid of a tearfest, he was terrified now that there wasn't any signs of one.

"So you thought that you could come back to me and I'd be the same person who'd loved you so blindly all those years ago?"

"No I—"

"You thought you could come back, and you'd have to kiss my ass for a bit before I relented and became the same sweetheart who had taken each and every one of your feelings seriously, who'd put himself out on a limb to follow each of your whimsies." Makoto laughed. "Even selfishness looks good on you though, I suppose."

"I didn't think that. I thought that more than anyone, maybe with you I'd always have a place. I hoped maybe you'd still love me even a little." Sousuke was panicking. He was sad, horrified even, because of what he'd come back to find.

Makoto's face didn't change. "I gather you don't have a place to stay. Get settled, I'll start looking for a new place tomorrow."

Sousuke's face contorted in protest but Akira spoke first. "What! Don't move because of this asshole! Come to my place tonight!"

Makoto laughed. "Don't worry so much Aki-chan. I'll be alright. I'm sorry about having to cut tonight short."

Akira had gotten up and Makoto got up after him. Reiichi followed them to the door and Sousuke felt like a fly on a wall as two of his boyfriend’s boyfriends got their shoes on. Reiichi leaned over to give Makoto a kiss, and to Sousuke's surprise Makoto leaned back into it and smiled. He gave one to Akira after, and the two scowled in Sousuke's direction before they left.

When it was just Makoto and Sousuke in the apartment, Makoto smiled. He gave Sousuke a cold once over. "Yep, you do look as good as I remember, though."

Without saying anything more, he grabbed a blanket from a closet and laid himself down on the couch. "I'll have a busy day tomorrow so I'm going to sleep. You can use the bed, or sleep wherever."

Sousuke wanted to burn the bed, like hell he would sleep on it. He wanted to say something, but words weren't coming out. Had he really fucked up that badly? Of course he had. He really had, and it had taken him this sight to realize it.

He gingerly walked over to where Makoto was lying and knelt down by him, "Don't.. Don't leave. Don't move. I came back to be with you."

Makoto opened his eyes but the look he gave Sousuke was unsettling.

"Sure, we can be together."

He got up and walked towards the room, undressing on his way. Sousuke followed uncomfortably, unsure of what to expect. Makoto laid himself on the bed and opened his legs. "Alright, get yourself hard and get it done. What's me opening my legs for you a few more times?"

A single tear rolled down Sousuke's eyes and a suffocated cry left his lips as he turned on his heels and ran to the living room, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Makoto didn’t bother to think much about it. He couldn’t. He could only react, and that’s how he’d deal with this. Makoto stretched himself out on the bed and fell asleep, the sounds of Sousuke's muffled sobs audible through the closed door.

Makoto felt a vague sort of cold. One that had shifted slightly. Too slightly for him to pay attention though. And he must have been tired, because he drifted into a heavy, completely black sleep.


	2. The Words You Sing When We Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke manages, Makoto relents.

There was something different about touch. Seeing something, hearing it, smelling it—whatever—they could only convey so much. Of course they could only convey what they were meant to convey, but the things that only touch could convey were miraculous. Wondrous.  
 ****

Makoto found himself lying in bed, giddy at what he'd just done, wrapped up in a sleeping Sousuke's arms. Tonight was the first night he’d learned of what touch was capable of conveying. From the way Sousuke had run his hands down Makoto's body, to the way he'd licked Makoto's chest, stomach, the inside of his thighs... Makoto blushed when he thought about it, and yet Sousuke’s warmth on his body thrust him right back into wonder.

Sousuke had begged for Makoto to let him do it. He'd promised that Makoto would understand once he'd given Sousuke a chance to show him how he felt. As he lay there, Makoto thought maybe he understood exactly what Sousuke had been talking about. There was some way that touching could communicate things nothing else possibly could.

So when they'd stopped touching as much, Makoto had known exactly where they were headed. The rare times that they did touch intimately, Sousuke just wasn't in it. At first Makoto had tried to attribute it to exhaustion, and then there came to be times when he'd try to seduce Sousuke only to have him refuse to take off his clothes. Makoto would still take his own off, hoping to inspire some lust—anything to elicit some interest. He’d tried to entice him with blowjobs, but that tactic only left him having to pleasure himself to finish, after Sousuke had come in his mouth and left. Other times, he tried to get on top so they could have proper sex, but since Sousuke refused to undress, he'd roll Makoto off of himself when he finished and leave. Even then Makoto tried again and again, just in case the wondrousness of the touch he’d felt when Sousuke had loved him could be rekindled. Just in case it could help him convey his feelings. Just in case, every time they touched, Sousuke might be able to feel how much he meant to Makoto, how much Makoto wanted him, how much he absolutely needed him.

When Sousuke stopped coming back to the apartment, Makoto couldn't sleep. He'd lie in bed all night, waiting for the door to open quietly, and for his lover to sneak into their bed. For his breathing to lull him into the safety of sleep.

Instead, he'd return home after class or work to signs that Sousuke had been in and out while Makoto was gone. He tried to tell himself he was just busy, but his texts had stopped coming and phone calls only reached his answering machine.

When Makoto had walked in on him packing his bags, he'd burst into tears because he'd expected it. Because somewhere in his heart, he had readied himself for tears.

The weeks after had been pure hell. Makoto would wake up with tears in his eyes, having slept clutching one of the shirts Sousuke had left behind, and he'd go to sleep clutching a fresh one unsoiled by tears. He would touch himself while clutching Sousuke's clothes, imagining scenarios in which he came back, apologized, and made love to him till the sun came up.

One of the last times he'd done it, he'd gathered all of the blankets in the apartment. He'd layered them on top of himself and repeated his ritual with one of Sousuke's abandoned clothes. He'd gone at it until he had passed out, and when he'd woken in the morning, the heat from the blankets had fooled him into thinking that Sousuke was in bed with him, that the whole thing had been a horrific dream. But when he'd turned over to greet him, he'd fallen flat into the empty space that marked Sousuke's side of the bed and been brought back to reality in one sick jolt.

He'd cried in bed all day. Forgotten all about his classes and his job.

And with that, something had broken inside of him.

****。。。

 

Makoto's consciousness slowly fluttered in and out in the morning, and he was vaguely aware of an intense heat in his bed. Absentmindedly, he started throwing off his blankets, trying to escape the source of it when he turned around and smacked right into Sousuke.

Oh.

Makoto remembered the events of the day before, and he was struck by the irony of Sousuke's presence in his bed. He was nursing dark circles around his eyes and seemed to have cried himself to sleep. The years really didn't show even a bit on his classically handsome face, and his body seemed to have filled out even more. It was the body of a full-grown man. It didn't elicit any reaction from Makoto. He shifted to make his way out of bed, and was promptly flung back when a sleeping Sousuke reached to grab Makoto's wrist.

He had opened his eyes and was wearing a pleading look. "Stay with me. I want to talk."

Makoto was unwavering in his apathy, "We can talk in the living room."

。。。

When they were seated in the living room and eating their breakfast, Sousuke couldn't help but notice how Makoto hadn't prepared his share. It stabbed at his heart but he could only wonder how much worse he actually deserved. Sousuke had found some things around the kitchen and thrown them together to get some energy running into his body. As he had done so, he'd noticed odd articles lying around the kitchen. There’d been some in the bathroom, too. Ostensibly things that belonged to the two from the night before. He'd felt a pang of discomfort that threatened to turn into anger, but sadness overwhelmed that emotion. Out of all of the things that hurt him, the thing that hurt most was that Makoto had so spectacularly moved on.

While Sousuke pondered these things, Makoto was growing impatient. "I'll spend today packing my things. I'll move into Aki's place tonight. It's about time, too, I guess."

Anger bubbled up inside Sousuke as the words sank in, soon replaced by the urge to order Makoto to stay. Keeping him against his will would be fine. And then maybe they could return to how they’d once been.

Of course not.

When he was able to get past all of the inappropriate emotions, he managed to ask, still more overbearingly than he’d wished, "Who were they? What's your relationship with them?"

Makoto felt his fists clench involuntarily as a series of possible reactions ran through his head. He didn’t have to tell Sousuke anything. He shouldn’t have to explain himself. Who was he to ask anyways? It was none of his business.

And then he was pulled to respond by the part of him that felt like he’d be hiding something if he didn’t tell. He couldn’t treat Aki and Reiichi like that. He had to stand up for his own choices. He wouldn't insult his lovely partners by treating them as some stain on his life that he couldn’t talk out. Of all the things in his life worth talking about, they were the most precious, the most worthy.

"They're my partners."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, both of them."

"You're in love with them?"

"I love them very much. They've been with me through many things, and supported me through all of them. We're not in a conventional relationship, but what we have is just as real as anything. Probably more real than some things."

The last jab was not lost on Sousuke, but neither was the fact that Makoto had said he loved them and not that he was in love with them. There was a difference as far as Sousuke was concerned and he was going to use any leverage he could get.

"They seem like good people. But… well, they hated me."

"Yeah I'm not sure why they knew who you were either. Maybe they heard some drunken stories early on and I don't even remember talking about it. I guess I'll ask tonight."

Sousuke felt dejection weighing down on his chest, some of it from the fact that Makoto continued to talk about them as priorities compared to Sousuke, and a great deal at the realization of how far back the three of them went. "You're going no matter what?"

"Yes, Sousuke. How much more do you want me to spell out for you? No, I'm not happy to see you, I'm not going to go out of my way to spend time with you. In fact, I'm going to pretend yesterday and today didn't happen. Once I've left, please refrain from trying to contact me again."

Sousuke sat in place, but tears had started streaming down his face. He was crying much more than he’d ever cried in his life, and it registered in some part of his brain that he was a shame. A shame for crying so much, a shame for messing up so much. He’d known that there was some vague possibility that his return would warrant this kind of cold and angry reception. He recognized that the things he’d done had been selfish and hurtful. Damaging, it now dawned upon him. In trying to fix himself and deal with the things inside of him, he’d broken the most beautiful thing in his life, and though he knew that in words, he had a feeling he’d come to understand it intimately from here on in.

Despondence clutched something deep inside of him.

And yet he couldn’t help but think that only Makoto wouldn’t break. Makoto was special. He was supposed to have understood. Sousuke somehow really believed that if it was with Makoto he could make it through. His breathing caught as he thought about the very real possibility that this was all his wishful thinking. That he’d been backed into a corner and he was just hoping as much as he could that someone would help him out of it.

It was the truth.

But he needed to believe in Makoto. He needed something.

His breaths continued to come short, hurried.

Makoto was just a person and even though this situation was hurting him now, he couldn’t actually imagine the extent to which Makoto had been hurt. He’d paid no mind to it until now, but as he came to terms with the reality in front of him he realized that the first step was to come to know Makoto’s pain.

He didn’t know how. He didn’t know if he was allowed. All he knew was that he had to keep trying.

He sat, glued to his chair, frozen. And then he moved. He bolted up and grabbed Makoto's wrist before managing to get a hold of him from behind when Makoto tried to escape. He held him that way, feeling Makoto’s back, smaller than his and softer, breathing in his scent. And feeling his warmth. He sobbed. For the first time since leaving Makoto did he understand how much he’d needed to see him all of these years. His heart was breaking, and emotions he hadn’t been able to let himself feel as of yet found their way to the surface of his consciousness.

When Makoto felt the sudden contact and the enveloping heat his first reaction was to shrug Sousuke off and regain his personal space. It was gross. He didn’t want this. And this was the thing. Sousuke’s touch. It would trigger things he’d bound off. His revulsion was years of trying not to think about any of it. Years of pretending nothing but the present moment existed. That his memories were in the past and that his past was a projection that had nothing to do with his present.

But he waited a second too long and something returned to him. It wasn’t quite a memory and it wasn’t quite conscious. But it was powerful. And enveloped in Sousuke’s scent his heart found itself taken somewhere it hadn’t been in all of the years since Sousuke had left him. It was faint, but it was enough.

Makoto could feel Sousuke’s erratic heartbeat on his back, and the heat of his hand communicating with the skin of his wrists. Every single thing inside of Sousuke was screaming. Crying, begging, pleading. And Makoto could feel it.

Makoto could feel all of Sousuke’s emotions, and he couldn't bring himself to ignore Sousuke the way that Sousuke had once rejected him. The feelings had rushed back and he remembered the way he’d loved Sousuke.

Tears started falling from his own eyes. He didn't understand it, and he couldn't control it. Years of dulled heartache descended upon him with all of their pent up fury.

"What in this world do you expect from me. I did every single thing I could, and you still left. And now you're back? I don't need you. I don't want you. I've built myself from the bottom and I have something I like perfectly well now."

They continued sobbing in their awkward embrace. Makoto was trying to extract himself and Sousuke wouldn't let go.

When Sousuke finally managed words, his voice was extremely small. "But I love you. I'm so in love with you. I thought about you every single day for the past seven years."

The confession had a pathetic sort of effect and Makoto’s revulsion turned urgent, but Sousuke was heaving so uncontrollably that Makoto’s body turned itself, joining in the embrace, cradling Sousuke’s body and trying to calm him down. "I didn't even move on. I haven't been with anyone in seven years, but you moved on so quickly."

There was something funny about the way emotions layered themselves. How concern could quickly change into rage. And somewhere inside of Makoto, he mused that concern probably didn’t usually turn into this kind of rage. Usually it was concern fueled rage. Probably.

But this was different. He was angrier than he’d ever felt himself. His palms curled into fists, his fists trembled. He removed his arms from around Sousuke, and his ears singed as Sousuke had grabbed on to his chest.

And there was silence. Inside of him where his heart had stopped beating erratically, where his emotions had calmed.

"Care to remind yourself exactly how you broke up with me?"

"Uuuhn. Hnn. I-..." Sousuke's words were punctuated by tears and Makoto couldn't help notice the dry irony present in him having to console the man who’d cruelly destroyed his heart. "I let us grow apart. I thought it would be easier that way. I thought that swimming was the only way I could do it. I thought I was weak for depending on you."

For someone who hadn’t felt feelings in so long, Makoto noted grimly how often they disappeared without warning. And that’s where he was right now. Numb. As if he’d never felt the concern, the rage, as if he’d never remembered that feeling from way back when. He was still holding Sousuke, but no part of him was affected by the words coming out of his mouth. It was a little bit of a pain, like something he had to do until Sousuke had gotten it out of his system.

Then Sousuke would leave and Makoto could live his life normally. But somehow, giving him an easy time of it didn't sit well with Makoto.

"So you thought the best way to do whatever you're referring to was to humiliate me during sex and then leave me without a word?"

"That's not what happened." He was still sobbing but the conversation had taken precedence and Makoto could see his eyebrows scrunching as he focused on what they were talking about. Makoto took the chance to sit down, trying to escape Sousuke’s clutches, but Sousuke wasn’t having any of it. He followed Makoto closely, sitting down with as little space between them as possible.

"Oh? What's your version of it. I'd love to hear after all this time."

Sousuke was cut by the razor in Makoto’s words, but he sensed an urgency. The expression on Makoto’s face suggested that there wasn’t going to be another chance for Sousuke to explain. And yet there was a softness. Maybe it was a softness that even Makoto himself wasn’t aware of, but Sousuke could see it. It hinted vaguely of the nights Makoto had fallen asleep in his arms. Or the way his lips turned up into a slight smile when he’d whispered his love in bed.

"I felt indebted to you. Like I couldn't do anything without your help, like you were the only reason I had gotten better. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do things on my own. I was wrong."

Irritation was scratching at the insides of Makoto's chest, and a feeling of pain had made itself a home in his throat. It was unfamiliar to him after all of these years. Pain. He’d done his best to forget it. He was impermeable because no matter what happened, that was the one emotion he refused to acknowledge.

And the sudden onslaught of feelings was tiring him out. The rollercoaster had gone on too long. He was going to lose his breakfast and pass out.

And yet the words still came. As if he’d been waiting to say them. As if he’d practiced for this day, unbeknownst to himself.

"So you fucked up wherever you went, and now you've come running home?"

Sousuke's eyes widened in protest. How could Makoto say these things to him? Why was it so natural for Makoto to hurt him? He could only speak so as to distract himself from the heaviness in his chest.

"No! That's no—Actually, yes.” He paused. “That's exactly it. I'm so sorry, but be my home for me Makoto. I need you."

Sousuke’s face had changed slightly over the years. Very slightly. The deep set eyes were just a little darker, and his strong jaw was more tense. He’d had an intimidating look about him before, but now a stranger might think he was perpetually angry. Stern. The years had taken the sexiness from his aura and turned it into something that suffered obviously. Maybe this was what beaten down looked like on Sousuke.

And maybe that was what had stopped Makoto in the first place. The change that’d slipped him a tiny bit of reminiscence. The tiny, tiny, bit that had reminded Makoto of the man he’d loved. How he’d loved him. And he couldn't do anything to stop the part of him that wouldn't shun Sousuke away. It was quickly overpowering any dulled, calculative responses Makoto had left in him.

His carefully constructed facade was crumbling in Sousuke's presence, and Makoto was beginning to realize it wouldn’t work. And maybe he’d known. That it’d crumble as soon as a person who could see past it showed up in his life. And maybe not just any person but this one specifically. And he could only give into his exhaustion now. Be selfish. Make no sense. Be irrational.

He put his arms around Sousuke’s dejected form, took a deep breath, and a stream of tears slid down his face.

"It's alright. Let's take it slowly. We'll talk this out, you can stay. I'll stay too."

Sousuke fell back into Makoto’s embrace, exhausted, and longing for the feeling of his lover’s body. They tried desperately to calm their breathing. And Makoto gave into something old. Something from a long time ago. Something that had longed to feel this familiar skin and be enveloped in the familiar scent.

And before either of them had realized it, both had fallen asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone~
> 
> This is another one that was mostly finished as far as editing goes. It'll slow down around ch 7 because I'll have to do it all ;___; that's how far I got... I'll post the SouTori work up later also (struggles after this one).
> 
> Just a note here, if anyone ever feels like Makoto does please don't think that's normal! I mean it's a normal response, but don't let yourself feel that way for 7 odd years like Makochin does here. I was struck by how terribly unhealthy poor Makochin has been. I'm glad he had Akira and Reiichi (which for those of you who haven't read this before, you will find out about~) Anyways, good luck Makochin, good luck me for editing and writing in the details for the rest of this hahahahahah
> 
> starts crying


	3. Lovers and Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira has a friendly chat with Sousuke.

A long time ago, Makoto had read somewhere that holding onto anger was like eating poison and expecting the other person to die. He'd laughed at how accurate that was. Then he'd also read some crap about how forgiveness was freeing, and he'd thought it such crap that he didn't even remember it completely.

Inside him, a candle burned for all of the pain he'd felt. He seethed and it burned brighter. He dulled and it brightened at his expense. He was aware of it, and yet he let it be. Anger was comfort. He felt the way he felt for a reason. He wouldn't let go of the lessons he'd learned. They had become a part of him.

He didn't think about an outlet for it. He never took it out at anyone but himself. Inside him, it would eat. Eat at his insides and then regurgitate what it ate. Then it would eat that again.

Makoto smiled at the imagery. That was about right. How rotten he'd become. What corruption felt like.

 

。。。

 

It had been a week since Makoto had relented and they'd fallen into an awkward routine of sorts. They'd go about their days as usual—Makoto would go about his day. Sousuke had come back to nothing and needed to find a job. He had plenty of money saved up, but it would run out eventually. He'd done his own groceries, separate from Makoto, and they each made meals one after the other.

It was killing him.

He thought back to the way they'd lived before he'd decided to leave, the way that Makoto would go out of his way to learn new dishes so they could eat them together, or the way he’d fuss over Sousuke’s nutrition and the contrast slowly broke him.

He slept on the couch. Makoto had washed some sheets and left them neatly in the living room. The first night that he'd been back he'd sneaked into Makoto's room after crying himself into a daze. He hadn't had the courage since. The blankets he was given smelled sterile, and he missed Makoto's scent on his sheets.

Lying in the living room, he would fool himself into believing that if he concentrated really hard, he could hear Makoto's breathing as he slept. He didn't know whether it was true or not, but he found solace in it and was slowly able to sleep at night.

One night they'd accidentally tried to use the restroom at the same time of night and ran into each other. The quiet of the night and the sleepiness in their eyes had fooled them both for a second. Makoto had lovingly put his hand on Sousuke's arm and smiled his angelic smile before he had realized he wasn't sleeping. When he had realized it wasn’t a dream, a cold shade had fallen over his face and he'd turned around and returned to his room without a word.

When he'd come back out to use the bathroom, Sousuke was sure Makoto had heard him quietly trying to choke down the tears. Makoto had finished his business quickly and echo of the door he shut behind him when he returned to his room hung in the air, weighing down on Sousuke.

 

。。。

 

On Friday night, Sousuke entered the apartment to find Makoto and Akira laughing and sharing stories over the dining table. When he entered, they both fell silent, waiting for him to continue to his place on the couch.

After dinner, Akira followed Makoto into his room and Sousuke's chest tightened, a debilitating lump forming in his throat. He was powerless to stop them, and yet he wanted to so bad that he thought he might die trying to restrain himself. He'd struggled to distract himself, but even from the living room he could feel the vibrations of the bed knocking on the wall from the floorboards. He'd put in earphones to block out any noise and stared absentmindedly at his computer screen. Tears were probably falling but Sousuke didn’t notice them anymore.

There was nothing he could do to stop the tears. They were all he had. And he had no choice but to let himself be sad where he couldn’t be angry. Where he couldn’t be strong. These were his mistakes.

He wondered if this was a taste of what Makoto had felt when he’d left.

When he'd gone to wipe his eyes, one of his headphones fell out, and he caught Makoto's voice mid-moan. _A-akira ngh, mo—._ Sousuke slammed his headphones back in his ears and the tears continued to fall.

Around 3AM, Akira came out to use the bathroom. The sound woke a fitfully sleeping Sousuke, whose face immediately paled at the sight.

Akira was a good looking man. Makoto sure could pick them. If Sousuke had the build of a swimmer, both Akira and Reiichi were more like basketball players. They were tall, but lean. Akira had the kind of face that seemed like it would be popular with frivolous women. It was contrasted by the sternness in his eyes. He'd caught Sousuke staring at him, so he walked towards him with a friendly smile on his face—if anything could be called friendly at that point. As he neared, Sousuke could see marks that gave him vivid proof of what exactly this man and Makoto had been doing. He grimaced and Akira smirked at him in response.  

"He's cute, but he bites, doesn't he."

Sousuke wasn't ready to talk about this with this man. If there was any reason he hadn't jumped on him to kill him with his bare hands, it was that Makoto had told him explicitly that he loved him.

"I don't know about that."

"Oh? You don't? But I could have sworn that was some sort of leftover habit. Hmm..." He smiled fondly, "Well, I’m glad to know it's not."

"Where's the other guy?"

"Hmm? Reiichi? He can't always come. I can't always come either, but whoever can does. Of course not when Mako-chan can't make it. Reiichi and I don't make sleeping with each other a habit."

"But you have?"

"Those are secrets for our bedroom aren't they." He winked, and it pissed Sousuke off. He was being teased in act of sheer cruelty, and consciously at that.

There was a silence between them until Akira spoke again, smiling. "You're a complete mess. You even got any tears left in that system? Maybe you couldn't hear us because of those headphones, but we could hear you clearly."

Sousuke's face betrayed his horror.

"But it's funny because Makoto didn't seem affected by it at all. I would have thought he would be. He was the same.” Akira’s face indicated he was replaying some things in his head. “Like a sexy kitten you know. My cute little kitten."

If Sousuke had to compare Makoto to an animal, he would have definitely chosen a puppy, or a bunny. Kitten was new, and not having seen Makoto's "kitten" side made him angry first and foremost. Jealousy followed suit, and so did despair. Makoto had been in their room _sleeping_ with another man.

Akira was obviously enjoying himself.

"But you know, he's never once told us about you... Ever wonder why we reacted so strongly that night you decided to show up?"

Sousuke was interested but didn't want to hear about it from Akira. Regardless of whether he wanted to hear it or not, Akira was either the type that couldn’t read people too well or the type that was sadistically ignoring Sousuke's discomfort.

"He's always really good about moaning the right names in bed. We never have to doubt that he's thinking only about us. But sometimes when we stay over and one of us stirs, we catch him saying your name." He laughs a little. "We were really surprised the first time because Reiichi had gotten up to get dressed and was making way too much noise. He was probably used to Makoto being knocked out drunk, but we’d recently succeeded in weaning him off the binging probably.”

As he talked about Makoto, Sousuke could hear the fondness in his tone. Seeing Akira that was somehow made Sousuke feel like he couldn’t hate him. They’d really taken care of Makoto.

Akira continued to speak. “Anyways, so I'd woken but Makoto was still asleep, but he was kind of stirring a little when he'd murmured something like, 'Nnn... Sousuke, don't leave so early. I want to wake up with you there in the morning.'"

Sousuke couldn’t move. He was frozen stiff. But he wanted to bang his face into a table, a wall, anything nearby.

And he was angry.

At himself. At these men who’d picked up the pieces of the Makoto he’d broken.

It was the first time that the pain felt so real. Makoto’s pain. Pain he’d been unable to really truly fathom until this point.

He remembered back to those nights when he wouldn’t come home. Nights spent on a couch at Rin’s old apartment that he was still renting. He’d think about Makoto sometimes. Wonder what he had done that day or what he was doing now.

And his chest would fill with annoyance. With anger. With revulsion.

He was probably waiting to see him. Waiting to suffocate him with that concern.

Sousuke struggled to breathe. He couldn’t move, and something inside of him wanted to explode. This was the pain he’d caused on those nights. Nights where he wouldn’t see Makoto. Nights when he’d deliberately avoid him. Nights that had turned into days and days that had turned into weeks and months.

Akira’s face had turned serious. In all of his shock and pain, Sousuke noted that Akira not only knew what he was doing, he was probably doing it on purpose. "It was so cuuuute! Reiichi was floored, but he had had to go that morning, so I cuddled Makoto in his place. Reiichi loves to cuddle Makoto. He really adores him. I do too, but more because the gap between Makoto in bed and Makoto out of bed is so fascinating. And also hidden Makoto. It's so great. I really love him. But anyways, it was really cute because he usually sleeps a little fitfully, but he really melted into my arms that night." He grins, "I went into work late that day, it was way too cute."

Sousuke sat silently, staring into the dining room floor.

Akira took in the sight, enjoying it a little before letting up. He wasn’t into torture. He mused that he just wanted to make sure that this asshole understood the gravity of his decisions. After deciding that it was truly enough and he’d let up, he neared Sousuke, who backed away immediately. But Akira was fast too. Faster, probably. And he managed to get a hand on Sousuke's shoulder.

"Hey listen. Reiichi didn't not come because he was busy tonight. He tried to convince me not to come too… But well, I didn't think Makoto would be ready for it yet, so I came. I have to support my little Makoto, you know. But we both want him to be happy.” Akira paused to sigh. “And though I hate to admit it—like I really wanna kick your ass hate—we both know very well that that happiness is with you."

His smile had lost the mocking edge and was more rueful now. "I trust that you'll take care of him after this. But we've been with him a long time. I, in the least, wanted to be with him one more time before I had to let him go. Reiichi is holding back for Makoto's sake. Anyways, I'm going back into that room now. After I leave tomorrow, make sure I have no reason to come and take him back."

Of course he was going back into that room. Even though he’d said everything he’d said things weren’t going to be that neat. Sousuke wasn’t even sure if what Akira had said was true. It was clear to him that these two strange men had done a much better job of understanding Makoto than he ever had.

There was no reason for Makoto to want him back.

Akira had turned around and walked to the doorway of Makoto’s room. He turned towards Sousuke before opening the door to go in, "And you'll be seeing a lot of us. We’re permanent furniture in his life."

With that the door shut and Sousuke was left to sit in the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allo
> 
> I now feel like less of a cop-out. There were a lot of details I avoided writing last time, anyways doing this is fun for me. The first time I wrote it, it was more cathartic but this time I'm focusing a little more on the feelz. Idk let me know what you think~ 
> 
> Updates re: original - so I have my blog back up and I registered a URL for it :) I was always going to do that but there was all of this work and life and other BS. So once I have a decent theme going (and it stops being buggy as hell omg), I'll put up the original for your reading pleasures. Probably at the same time as the next update~
> 
> The next chapter always makes me cry omg I'm not looking forward to reading/writing it.


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